


It's not a sleepover until we bust out the existential questions at 2am

by Sketchalot



Series: Chaos Duo Rise! [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Klarion has Tim's back in any and all things, Sharing a Bed, as well as mentions of canon character deaths, but these are like one liners! I don't go into any of it super deeply, excluding when hes trying to hide his anxiety, slight allusions to tim's less than stellar childhood, teekl cuddles return!, then they snitch straight to teekl, theyre at a sleepover so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchalot/pseuds/Sketchalot
Summary: True Friends call in Demon Cat reinforcements when their friend is sad and existential; let it not be said that Klarion isn't a True Friend.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Klarion, Tim Drake & Klarion & Teekl
Series: Chaos Duo Rise! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866871
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	It's not a sleepover until we bust out the existential questions at 2am

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again!
> 
> This installment acts as something of a spiritual successor to "Cats are magic my dear and don't you forget it" in the way that it features anxiety and Teekl cuddles. This time featuring sleepover shenanigans!
> 
> Fair warning, Tim makes allusions to canon character deaths and the people he's lost over the years; canon is my sandbox, so I kind of just mush a lot of different continuities together for maximum angst. That being said, I'm not sure that all these instances will necessarily be canon to this au-maybe Tim is experiencing echoes of the tragedy his multiversal counterparts have faced and is manifesting within him as anxious thoughts? who knows!
> 
> Timeline wise, the kiddos are closer in age to their "I thought you were going to stop breaking into my house?" counterparts-placing them at around 16/17 in my mind.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

“Do you think we go anywhere after we die?” Tim asks, staring up at the dark ceiling.

The bed shifts as Klarion rolls over to face him, and Tim ignores the feeling of eyes boring into the side of his skull as the silence stretches between them. Asking deep and or ridiculous questions in the early hours of the morning was practically sleepover tradition at this point, so Tim knew Klarion would indulge him and answer eventually; he’d just have to wait them out.

“Getting existential in your old age, eh Timmy? Well, we always knew this day would come, I just didn't expect it so soon; I'll have to start calling retirement homes in the morning-”

The unmistakable smacking noise of a pillow meeting a person's face ringing through the air, followed by an indignant squawk from Klarion, manages to give Tim a chuckle; as does the ensuing scuffle that threatens to turn into an all-out pillow fight, both doing their level best to smother the other into submission. The battle for pillow fight dominance is never truly won of course-Klarion swears the precious seconds they effectively kept a pillow over Tim’s face qualifies them for a win, while Tim counters that their textbook executed headlock, and subsequent flurry of pillow slaps on the immobilized lord of chaos gives him the clear victory- and a truce is called before they can get _too_ rowdy; they wouldn’t want to wake the rest of Tim’s family after all. While they could probably handle Bruce or Tim’s brothers easily enough, both Tim _and_ Klarion had a healthy fear and respect for Alfred, and would rather avoid him paying them a visit this late at night. The sheer level of “I’m not angry, just disappointed” that the beloved butler would no doubt exude if he found them awake at this hour would surely be too much to bear. Quiet resettles over the room like a heavy blanket, the only sound being Tim and Klarion’s slightly labored breathing as they settle back down onto their sides of the bed. Tim’s eyes stray to the ceiling once more.

“So what's brought this on boy wonder?” Klarion asks, as they reach over and poke a finger into Tim’s cheek; and while Tim might have usually batted it away or pretended to bite off the offending appendage, right now he just felt...drained. He’s no stranger to his brain’s ability to work on overdrive, or how his anxiety feeds into these episodes to create a seemingly never-ending feedback loop in his head; his old friend chronic insomnia lives on as a testament to this fact. Something about the quiet darkness of the night seemed to pull every little thing to the forefront of his mind; there was nothing to distract him from the thoughts he’d pushed down throughout the day as he lay in bed, so his brain takes it as an ample opportunity to dredge them all right back up again.

Klarion’s regularly scheduled visits usually kept these kinds of thoughts at bay, helped to quiet the constant buzzing thoughts in his head as he immersed himself in various activities and chaotic shenanigans, but his brain seemed to be in fine form tonight and refused to let any of it go.

And it was so _stupid_ because he couldn’t even pinpoint what started the spiral in the first place; Was it the cold case he was working on for Bruce, where the primary weapon seemed to be a crowbar? Was it seeing Dick finally remove the bandages he’d had in place after last week’s patrol had a bullet whizzing too close to Nightwings head for comfort? Or maybe it was pulling Robin out of the way from an attack on his blind spot, a sword ready to price him from behind him where he couldn’t see. Seeing Bruce in a period costume as he left for a themed Gala, catching an episode of a TV show in his downtime where the main character loses their friends one after the other, playing as a video game protagonist that goes on magical adventures but it’s _only possible because their neglectful parents don’t care to know where they are-_

Maybe it was all of those things, maybe it was none of them, or maybe it was a break down a long time coming when it seemed like every little thing kept triggering an avalanche of memories and negative emotions he’d rather forget and move past than actually have to deal with in any capacity.

Stuffing these memories into the back of his mind and the emotions into the bottom of his chest- _and one day, I’ll die!_ -probably wasn’t doing him any favors either.

Tim doesn’t really have the emotional bandwidth to put all of his thoughts into words at the moment, but it's been a long time since he’s ever _had_ to with Klarion-they’ve known each other for so long now that it’s, thankfully, not really needed at this point.

“Bad brain day.” Tim explains with a sigh, trusting Klarion to understand; they didn’t often use “old code” these days, various phrases and “magic words” they’d made up together in their childhood for seemingly any and every situation they could think of, but they still occasionally found their uses in their current lives. “Bad Brain Day” came into creation when either of them had experienced a particularly trying day and needed comfort or a distraction-with the added promise to talk about the cause Of the bad day at a later time. 

The finger that had long since ceased poking at his cheek, and was now occupying itself by fiddling with the loose string on his t-shirt sleeve, stilled. 

Tim had _hoped_ for a mindless conversation, maybe booting up an episode of B99 to watch together and take his mind off his problems before heading back to sleep. It’s Tim’s mistake for expecting Klarion to do anything by halves.

Before Tim can react, Klarion is sitting up and whisper-yelling a commanding _“Teekl”_ into the darkness of the room. 

A pair of piercing red eyes appear within the shadows in response. 

Tim makes an aborted motion to get up and ward her away, making sure to shove Klarion’s shoulder in retaliation on his way up, “ _Klarion no, don’t bother her-_ Teekl It’s _fine_ really, don’t worry about it, nothing to see here-!” but Klarion practically tackles him back onto the bed, laying his bulk across Tim's body and latching on like an octopus to restrict his arms and legs, knocking the wind out of him in the process.

Teekl’s fiery orange fur practically seems to _glow_ as she melts from the inky shadows of the room and, with a hissed “ _Cuddle Form Alpha!_ ” from Klarion, she’s across the room and settling on Tim’s chest before he can blink; Klarion rolls back onto their side of the bed, and he doesn’t need to turn to see the self-satisfied smirk on their face; he can feel it from here. _Snitch._

With a huff-and, _no_ Klarion he’s not _pouting_ thank you very much _-_ Tim settles his hands into her fur as she starts purring with abandon. The soothing motion and calming reverberations settle something in his chest, and he takes a slow deep breath in and out as he settles back into the pillows.

He _still_ refuses to look at Klarion and the smug, smug, grin they’re no doubt sporting.

Instead, he glances down at Teekl lounging on his chest and presses a quick kiss to her head with a heartfelt “Thanks Teekl.” spoken into her fur.

Klarion’s offended scoff and accompanied playful complaints “oh _I see_ , Klarion facilitates the cuddle puddle but gets no thanks in return! The _disrespect_ , why, I _never_ -” are met with a snort. Teekl whaps them in the face with her tail.

Klarion’s hand comes into his line of vision as they reach out to scratch Teekl on the head, but Tim makes quick work of slapping their hand away.

“Snitches get stitches _and_ their Teekl rights revoked!” Tim exclaims as he blocks any more petting attempts made by Klarion-with some retaliatory jabs to the witch boy’s side thrown in for good measure. Klarion attempts to counter, but they’re hindered by the beloved familiar currently taking up residence on top of Tim’s chest-the witch boy is trapped by the ironclad laws of never disturbing a comfortable cat. Its Klarions turn to feign ignorance as Tim turns to them with a smug grin.

As they settle back down, smoothing out blankets and rearranging pillows-Klarion taking the chance to _accidentally_ hit Tim over the head with one as they reach across him, ‘ _it wasn’t on_ purpose _Timmy_ please _what do you take me for?’_ said with an offended sniff-Tim once again finds himself looking at the ceiling; head no longer swirling with anxieties, free hand buried in Teekl’s fur as their comforting purr lulls him to sleep, and the warm, solid weight of his friend at his side.

Tim glances to the side with a soft smile; Klarion’s eyes are already closed as they start to slip back into sleep. Reaching across the gap between them, Tim finds Klarion’s hand and slots their pinkies together.

_‘Promise?’_

Klarion slits a singular eye open, a kind smile taking over their face as their gazes lock. 

Tim’s pinkie is softly squeezed-once, twice, thrice-before Klarion gives a theatrical yawn, snuggling back into the bed, eyes closed.

Their pinkies stay intertwined.

_‘Promise.’_

* * *

“So _do_ you think we go anywhere after we die?”

“Tim. It’s _6 am_ on a _Saturday_. If you don’t go back to sleep I _guarantee you’ll find out.”_

Tim stifles a snort and obediently closes his eyes; who knows, maybe he'll be able to grab an hour or two more of sleep before he feels compelled to start working. Sensing a presence hovering above him, he curiously cracks his eyes back open.

Klarion looms over him, tired glare on their face, pointer finger inches from Tim’s nose.

“And just so we’re clear,” they hiss, “If you dare die any time soon or, _chaos forbid_ , before _me_ , you’re in for a rude afterlife because I _will_ be giving you an earful on the other side before dragging your butt back to the land of the living.”

Tim watches them, eyebrows raised, as they pause.

The pointer finger turns into an offered pinkie.

“Do we have an understanding?” Klarion questions, raising an eyebrow of their own.

A smile creeps onto Tim’s face as they raise their hand.

“As long as you know that I’ll be doing the same,” Tim says as he meets Klarion’s pinkie with his own, “then I do believe we have an accord.”

Fingers intertwine, followed by three shakes.

The deal is sealed. 

Klarion flicks Tim’s forehead.

“Now go the fuck to sleep, Timothy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wondered if I should just make this chap. 2 of "Cats are magic my dear and don't you forget it", but eventually decided to make it its own installment. Good idea? Bad idea? Who knows!
> 
> Hope to bring you more chaos duo content soon!


End file.
